He breathed in trying to calm himself. She had an effect on him like none others had before. Scooping her to him he rolled on his side. Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes welled up with unshed tears. Immediately she bent her head as if to hide. The urge to discover why she appeared to be sad, spurred him to lift her chin so he could peer into her eyes.
“Tempest why are you so sad? Did I hurt you badly?”
A tear rolled down her face as she shook her head. She pushed against him forcing him to his back, and then sat up struggling to cover her bare breasts with the sheet.
He felt the warmth of her small hand come to rest on his chest. She wiggled her fingers and scratched a path down his chest and over his stomach. She swallowed hard and he waited for what she might say.
“I’m touching you. You’re touching me.”
He reached up adjusting the patch and ran his hand over his face, ashamed. “I’m sorry Tempest. I know I should never have touched you,” he sighed heavily.
She continued to hold his hand tenderly. “My point is that it was okay…it was more than okay.” Her tears fell freely. “Ryder, I’ve never been able to touch another since…well…never.” She smiled. “Maybe we were meant for one another.”
Those weren’t the words he wanted to hear tumble from her mouth. Or were they? A change of subject was needed, and quickly.
“I’m surprised Rogue didn’t crash through the door and tear a hole in me.” He tried to pull his hand away, but she refused to let go, instead trying to pry open his fingers. He wanted to clench his fist to hide the scar from her curious exploration, but he knew he’d crush her tiny hand if he did, so he let her be.
She stared down at the mark on his palm. “Why is it just like mine? Or perhaps mine is just like yours. What does it mean?” She frowned.
He pulled his hand away. “None of this makes sense, but it doesn’t matter because I think I found away off this mountain.”
She sat up straighter continuing to tug at the covers. “Really! Could that be possible? Fedor told me I couldn’t leave.” Her eyes looked as big as suns.
“That creature you call Fedor is evil,” he growled.
“Nobody knows better than I.” she spoke quietly hanging her head.
After picking up a handful of her hair and running it between his fingers, he responded. “Tempest, he will never hurt or touch you again…not ever…not while I’m alive.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
The bark at the door caused her to jump. Her cheeks flushed. “I’m okay, Rogue. I’ll be out in a moment.”
Ryder stood. “I’ll leave you here to change. Perhaps you’d like a snack before you go to sleep?”
She nodded in agreement. “I am hungry again,” she said, rubbing her stomach.
· · · · ·
Later, after a fully satisfied tummy, he peeked in on her sleeping soundly in the bed.
His thoughts quickly turned to the passion they’d shared. She’d wanted him to sleep with her, to hold her, but he knew where it would have ended up, and she needed sleep. He explained he needed to stand watch and had to think about their plan for tomorrow. If they were to make love again… He shivered; the raw emotions she brought out in him were terrifying.
A smile crept over his face, and the crazy gargdog lifted his head off the pillow beside Tempest’s sleeping form. One of Rogue’s wings thumped against the bed. Ryder shook his head with a grin and placed a finger to his lips. Slowly, Rogue laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
Ryder stepped outside, listening to the chirps and gentle movements of the forest animals or perhaps misfits scurrying along in the night. He stared up and into the sky, knowing the exact way home. He, or he should say they, would leave this place tomorrow.
His hand began to burn, and he lost his smile. Making a fist, he cringed against the pain, wondering why it had begun to act up. It was as if the thought of leaving brought the pain.
Chapter Eleven
Tempest awoke with a start. Rogue jumped on the bed and with great enthusiasm licked her with his giant tongue.
“Rogue, you scared me half to death,” she scolded holding a hand over her heart.
“You slept late, Tempest! Ryder said you should sleep.”
She looked around the room, wondering whether it had all been a dream, but the tenderness she felt between her legs told her it had been real.
Tempest yawned and stretched. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so wonderful. “So where is our savior?”
“Outside.”
“Doesn’t he ever come in?” she muttered more to herself than Rogue.
“Come on, Tempest. Come outside. There’s no snow!” He jumped off the bed, bounding up and down.
She laughed, and then stopped, shaking her head. “I like this feeling. I like feeling happy.”
“Me, too, Tempest. Can we stay with him, or at least stay here?”
The covers felt like heaven. She almost froze in place, not wanting to do anything that might break the spell she seemed to be in.
“I’m not sure about that, Rogue. We are still on Misfit Mountain, and until we are far away from Fedor, I don’t think it would be wise to believe it will always be like this.” She pushed the covers away and slid to the edge of the bed.
“We are leaving today.” His tiny wings thumped.
There was nothing to keep her from laughing. The gargdog was happy, and she’d be wrong to take this moment away from him. “You’re right! Now, if you’ll wait outside, I’ll freshen up and be right out to join you.”
He spun around, running into the chair and toppling it over. Without looking back, he thumped his way down the hall.
Sadness crept into her soul. Why couldn’t all this be real? Nothing would mean more to her. She moved toward the closet off to the right. Anything she could want stared at her when the doors opened. Of course, she chose only the garments that would fully cover her bare skin, but going against her better judgment, she decided on the color black, something she wouldn’t typically do; black would stand out on white—the white snow. After brushing her hair, she made a braid and secured it up on the top of her head out of the way. She pulled on a pair of shoes, which fit perfectly. It had been so long since she’d worn a properly fitting pair of shoes, they almost felt awkward.
She left the special room and buried the happy memories deep in her heart.
Outside, the bright sun caused her to squint and hold her arm up over her eyes. Rogue jumped to her side and ran circles around her. It seemed odd to watch him run with his large body.
“It’s nice here, Tempest.”
“Yes, it is, Rogue.” Pretty colored flowers and lush foliage of green surrounded them. “It’s almost like being in a dream.”
A gust of wind hit them, and she ducked out of instinct.
Ryder landed a short distance away.
Her cheeks turned hot. After what they’d shared last night, she’d almost forgotten about this side of him.
He folded his wings behind him and walked toward her. “Did you sleep well?”
She smiled and bent her head shyly. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well.”
“Good.”
“Did you sleep?”
“It is not necessary for gargoyles to sleep. We rest when in our formidable stone position, but we never truly sleep.”
“That would explain why or how you left the first night in the cave. You just waited for me to fall asleep,” she said, annoyed.
He crossed his arms over his chest and straightened up. “It was necessary for me to leave.”
“Yes, but you told me you wouldn’t.”
“Are you ready to go?” he asked, changing the subject.
She hesitated. “I guess we are.”
“I don’t know what to expect once we break through the dimension. He pointed to the belt that fit snugly at this waist. “Rogue, this is for you. You will ride on my back and secure yourself by holding on to the leather wi
th your teeth. Do not let go. Tempest, I will carry you in my arms. Any questions?”
Rogue sat at his feet, waiting.
Tempest chewed at her finger, unsure. “Are you sure this will work?”
“No. I’m not sure about anything anymore.”
“Oh.”
“Well, let’s go.” In three steps, he’d scooped her up in his massive arms.
It took a moment before Tempest opened her eyes and took a breath of air. She stared up into his dark eyes, feeling the warming sensation throughout her body. She wanted to kiss him, but settled for licking her lips. His eyes bore into hers for a moment as if he could see straight through to her soul.
He looked away, speaking to Rogue. “Jump, and hang on tight.”
She closed her eyes and turned her head into his chest. The feeling of his powerful legs pushing off the ground sent her heart fluttering. He was so strong, but she knew the other side of him, the one he hid from others—his feelings of insecurity, telling himself he wasn’t worthy to be a gargoyle, how when he’d lost his eye, he’d wished he’d died in the fight.
The wind blew, strong, and the higher they flew, the more dark and cold it got. She shivered and gathered the courage to look down. Everything looked so tiny, but what really caught her attention was how small the patch of lush green was. Everything else around them remained white and cold.
The snow began to fall and her heart sank. A beautiful dream had disappeared almost as fast as they flew. Try as she might to see above, it seemed impossible. Every now and again, she’d catch a glimpse of the sky, which shone like gold. She smiled and held on to the small piece of hope buried in her heart.
In the next instant, a scorching pain stabbed her in the chest. The intensity left her breathless. As they continued up, and she could see sparkles of silver dancing all around them, fire consumed her from the inside out. She screamed in agony, unable to breathe. Her lungs ceased to allow her a breath of air. It was as if she was drowning, with no oxygen, and at the same time, she burned from the inside out. She struggled in Ryder’s arms, fighting what seemed to be an inevitable death, until her vision blurred and turned from grey to black.
· · · · ·
Ryder stopped in mid air looking down at her. “What is wrong with…” his words trailed off. Tempest’s lips and skin had turned dark-blue. She hung limp in his arms. “What the fuck?” Not only was she blue in color, but she was hot—burning-up hot. He held a large finger to her neck. There was no pulse.
He felt the small weight on his back leave. His eyes widened in disbelief as Rogue plummeted to the ground, unmoving.
What went wrong? She can’t be dead, she just can’t be.
The tiny silver sparks dancing around them grew in size. The pixies were back, the same ones that had brought him to the mountain. The tiny sprites were no larger than his talons. They spoke rapidly and in a flurry. Were they pointing to the ground? One of them flew right into his face and poked him in the cheek with a definitive motion to the ground. Without thinking twice, he clutched Tempest close and dove for the ground, realizing that once again, Rogue needed to be caught. Like before, he caught up to the gargdog free-falling in the air and snagged him by the collar.
A hundred feet before they hit the ground, he opened his wings to stop their descent slowly. Rogue lay unmoving in the green grass, while Ryder gently laid Tempest in the thick soft moss. With a swipe of his claw, he removed her shirt, desperately trying to discover what could be wrong with her.
“Breathe, Tempest! Breathe!”
He’d been so focused on Tempest that he’d ignored his own pain. He clenched his fist, angry for the searing pain in the palm of his hand.
“What do you want from us?” he yelled up into the sky. Helplessness overwhelmed him as he reached down to her similar scar with his. Her words echoed in his mind.
“Maybe we were meant to be together.”
His large hand covered her chest, and at the exact moment of contact, their scars melded together. He struggled to keep upright as the world spun. His vision blurred, and he blinked, trying to understand what he saw. He was looking up at himself…as if he was inside her head.
Fuck! That’s exactly it.
He was inside her head, feeling what she felt and seeing what she would see.
With all his might, before he lost consciousness, he yanked his hand away from her body. Falling backward, he caught his breath before leaning back over her.
Her gasp of air caught him by surprise, and no other sight in the world would have made him happier. Slowly, her eyes opened and tears flowed down her cheeks.
“Am I dead?”
He shook his head. “No, sweetie, you’re just fine.”
“What happened, Ryder? I only remember a terrible pain, and I couldn’t breathe.” She tried to push herself up. He placed his arm around her waist, helping her forward.
Her hand flew to her mouth with a shriek. “Rogue!”
Ryder’s gaze followed hers. She struggled forward to the beast. “Why would you do this? Put him back immediately,” she screamed with anger.
He stared at the gargdog. He hadn’t turned him to stone. “Tempest, I didn’t do this.” He stood and moved to Rogue’s side. “I’m puzzled.”
“Please change him back,” Tempest cried.
He placed his hand on the gargdog’s stone form where it lay in the grass. “I would if I could, but I can’t. I didn’t turn him to stone.”
She continued to cry, curling her body up and around Rogue’s form. “I’m so sorry. I should have never agreed to try and leave this mountain. I should have listened to Fedor.”
Ryder’s blood boiled at the sound of her desperation. He bent over and picked her up, holding her so she could see the anger that must be reflected in his eyes. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again! Do you hear me? Beasts like Fedor thrive on words like yours. I will figure this out, and I will get you off this hell-forsaken mountain and back to Levare.”
Her eyes were wide, perhaps out of fear, or maybe just shock at how harshly he spoke.
After placing her back on the ground, he realized—as did she—that she stood in front of him wearing no top. With a wave of his hand, she stood fully clothed as before. He then turned to Rogue.
What was I thinking? I could have killed her today. It was a stupid move. I should have done more testing, instead of just assuming I could whisk her back to Levare.
Something very powerful seemed to be at work. A true gargoyle had the ability to transform to stone at any given time, but Rogue wasn’t a true gargoyle. Why or who had placed such a wicked spell on the creature. He closed his eyes, concentrating on removing the spell the animal seemed to be under, but deep down, he knew it was useless.
Could this be the way Fedor planned on keeping them under control? If it is, how does he manage to wield such power?
“I hate to ask you this, Tempest, but what else can you tell me about this Fedor? You said he told you leaving here wouldn’t be possible. Do you know why?”
Her shoulders slumped.
His heart was heavy, as he imagined the pain she would feel drudging up memories of the decrepit old slime ball.
“I don’t know. He would just remind me that I would never leave here and that he would be the best thing I’d ever have.” She paused, staring at the ground. “I preferred death to that.”
He pushed a bit harder. “I hate to ask you this, but when he touched you, do you remember anything that stood out at all?”
Sucking in a deep breath she nodded. “I remember his thoughts…he wanted to marry me…to own me…and to…”
Ryder reached for her hand, which she quickly pulled out of his reach. “This is me, not Fedor,” he reminded. Again, he reached for her hand, and this time, met only minimal resistance.
“I’m wondering about anything else you might have seen—anything that struck you as odd?”
She smiled. “I like your touch, but sometimes, I’m still scared.” Slowl
y, she pulled away from him and moved to Rogue’s side, then slumped down beside him.
“There’s a woman and a horrid looking creature. I don’t understand. One minute he seems to be with the beauty, but then I see him with the creature. She does things to him.”
“I think I know who you are referring to,” he ground out with clenched fists.
“You do?” Her eyes went wide. “How is that possible?”
“I decided to follow Fedor the night I left you in the cave.
“What else? Anything you remember.”
“Oh. He likes to drink. He’s really mean to the sneers. I don’t think they’re bad, they’re just trying to survive…like Rogue and I. I often wonder what they were before they came here.
“Sorry. I’m wandering. He stares at a cabinet where the alcohol is kept. I see it often in his thoughts. It’s how I know he likes his alcohol. The drinks are kept in an ice cabinet, and there are beautiful ice crystals illuminating everything. I’ve never seen anything like them. They really are wonderful. He picks these icicles up and stares at them frequently—one in particular. I don’t know why.”
Ryder remembered the way Fedor insisted the women show him the “stone”. Somehow, the two had to be linked.
How am I going to get them out of this mess? Can I leave the fucked-up mountain, or am I stuck, too? And what do the pixies have to do with all of this?
He knew what he had to do.
“Tempest, I know what I’m about to say won’t go over well.” He bent down, kneeling on the ground in front of her. “I have to see if I can leave here and get some answers.”
She held her breath and swallowed, and then shook her head slowly. “You won’t come back,” she said softly.
“I will come back.”
“What if you can’t?”
He held her tiny face between his giant paws. “Nothing will keep me from coming back.”
Her misty green eyes held him captive. She moved closer and pressed her lips to his. Instantly, the fire inside him built. With one arm, he scooped her against his body, letting her consume his senses. The kiss turned to a raging inferno.
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